Threadbare and Full of Holes
by Midnight Auror
Summary: Five years after leaving Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy and Ronald Weasley's lives seem to have done complete reversals. Now it is Ron who is the wealthy one, and Draco who has no money. Then, Ron extends a business offer to Draco.
1. The First Time in Four Years

**Threadbare and Full of Holes**  
_Chapter One: The First Time in Four Years_  
  
Disclaimer: Most characters belong to J.K. Rowling.  
  
Summary: Five years after graduating from Hogwarts, things have changed for two former students, and things are about to go way over their heads.   
  
  
  
He stared disgustedly at the other man's shoes. How could so much have changed in such little time?  
  
A mere five years ago, the other other man had been quidditch captain and bound to go on to a greater life; what a snobbish brat he had been. And yet, the change that took hold over the now careless blonde was not really all that surprising. Five years ago, he himself had been best friend of the quidditch captain of another house, always lurking in the more famous boy's shadow for the most part. Then, his family had finally acquired money, and his life had taken a turn for the better.  
  
Apparently, this was not the case with the blonde sitting across from him, but Ron had no been expecting to be sitting in an extravagant apartment; everyone in the wizarding world knew that the Malfoys had been forced to pay the ministry for damages done during the Dark War. By the time they had managed to pay off most of the debt, Lucius hung himself. Leaving nothing for his wife or son. Instead, Ron felt smuggly proud when upon entering the dingy apartment he found it a squalid reck.   
  
The blonde man lay in an awkward position. His feet dangling over the back of the couch that must have been blue once. His head hung over the deeply depressed cushion. The center of the couch was so far sunken in that the man's head almost touched the ground. Almost. His hair however, left small streaks in the dirt that littered the floor when he moved his head. He had not gotten up to welcome his guest, instead shouting for whoever it was to come in. Shock overtook him when it was his house rival that stepped through the door that was barely attached to the hinges. The redheaded man, who looked appalled at the door as it whined on the rusty hinges, had undergone many changes since the last time he had seen him four years ago.   
  
It had been under embarrassing circumstances that that meeting had occurred. He and his filthy whore of a mother, who had taken to sleeping about for money and seemed to enjoy it, had come to make the last payment to the Ministry of Magic. On their way out, he and Ron had bumped into each other. Already then, it was evident that Ron was on his way to a better life. His robes where less dowdy and more acceptable. Where as, Draco had gone on a reverse; his robes no longer splendid with intricate designs. Oh, how he loathed his father. They had said nothing to each other, merely walking on if they had never known one another.   
  
Even when Ron had entered his grimy apartment, he still had not stirred from his spot on the couch. Well, well, well, Draco smirked, although it did not reach his eyes. What have we here?   
  
Ron looked at Draco as though he was a speck of dirt, and after a reproachful glance about the room. He sat down in a chair after performing a cleaning enchantment on it without Draco asking and still said nothing. His eyes ran across the room. After all the years of torment from Draco about his families wealth, or lack there of, it was ironic to be sitting in the same room as the man he had seemingly switched places with. Oh, yes, Draco bit. Please, _do_ sit down.  
  
Don't mind if I do, Ron said. Draco shifted on the couch. In the process, he ungracefully kicked up some dirt, which Ron swore under his breath and glared at the dirt as if daring it touch him. Draco nearly chuckled. There was the boy he had tormented as a child, but he was a boy no longer. With his manhood had come many changes that left him with an impressive person.  
  
The dirt settled down, and Ron looked a bit more at ease now that it no longer threatened to soil his clothing. Smoothing out his pristine white shirt, lest it wrinkle while he sat, he looked at Draco. Measuring him up. Finally, he spoke, I've got a business proposition for you.  
  
Draco responded, only mildly interested as he pulled a bruised fruit from one of the recesses of the couch. The last job offer he'd had had left him in a worse state. Although, he could use some extra cash, and Weasley looked as if he was throwing it around these days. Straining his memory, he tried to recall what it was that the crimson haired man was doing these days as he bite a chunk out of the pear.  
  
You'll work under my conditions, Ron said, casting another disdained glance about the room.   
  
Which are? Draco asked, spewing bits of pear everywhere.  
  
Ron's eyes flashed momentarily, a fragment of pear narrowly missing him. First, you move out of this apartment, into a more suitable one, Ron hesitated waiting for the other man's reaction.  
  
Draco dropped back into the position Ron had found him in earlier. His hair causing the dirt on the floor to fly up slightly before settling back down. Ah, easier said than done, Draco said uninterestedly. For you see, Draco said making eye contact with Ron's cool blue eyes as his arm swept above him. I have no fucking money, and therefore a more suitable apartment, he winced before continuing to talk with is mouth full of his fruit, is out of the question.  
  
I figured as much, Ron articulated. Which is why I'll be paying for your apartment. When Draco's eyebrows rose, Ron proceeded, You'll need a new wardrobe of course. Something to take care of the doubtless shitty one you have now, but we can take care of that later. You'll be available whenever I need you. If you have any prior arrangements with someone to meet for a night I need you, then you're too cancel them, or the deals off.  
  
Fair enough, Draco said, spewing more chunks of pear everywhere. They still failed to hit Ron, but then Draco was not aiming for him or anything in particular. Others before Ron had said the same thing. And the pay?  
  
Five hundred galleons a day. Then as if on a second thought, Maybe, six hundred. It all depends on how good of an actor you are. If you slip up once during the business proceedings, then the deals off, and you only receive 400 a day for your services. I'll pay you weekly.  
  
Holy shit, Draco whispered. Then, gulping down another bite from his pear, he asked, Will the apartment rent be taken out of my pay? He was now suddenly enraptured by the offer,which was what Ron wanted. Granted 500 galleons a day was not particularly wonderful pay, it was undoubtedly better than what he was receiving now, which was close to nothing.   
  
Ron smirked, No. The money you receive is for you to spend as you wish. Do an extra good job, and I'll throw in some bonus money. You'll need it after our business is done. I'll not be requiring your services in six months, so this will be a relatively long business deal for you no doubt.  
  
What is this business that I'll be doing for you? Draco asked, one of his eyebrows cocked. He worked in several fields of business these days. All his pitiful means by which to earn enough money to get by, which he was just barely doing.   
  
Ron said, standing to pull a roll of parchment from his midnight blue pinstriped pants. Is contained in these papers. You must agree to do everything outlined in this, you'll sign you signature on the bottom if you agree.  
  
Draco took the parchment from Ron's outstretched hand, and glanced at its contents. He took another bit from the quickly diminishing bruised fruit. He appeared a bit uneasy.  
  
All you'll be doing is what is outlined in those papers, Ron said noting the change in Draco's attitude. Nothing more, nothing less.  
  
Draco relaxed a bit. Ron was asking a bit much if he was honest, but he was offering a pay higher than any other before him. How long do I get to decide?  
  
Four days. I'll be back on Thursday by noon. If the papers aren't signed by then, then I'll assume your answer is no.  
  
Why me? Draco said, more chunks flying from his mouth again.   
  
By god, man! Learn some manners, Ron chided as he ducked a larger chunk of pear. It made Draco uneasy to see such a malicious emotion twist the other man's face.   
  
Finally, Ron answered, because, you wouldn't dare to reveal our _business_ to anyone. You have much to gain by accepting my offer. And with that, Ron strolled from the filthy apartment, confident that Draco would agree to his terms.   
  
**Authors Note:** Why, hello there. I see you've managed to read this, and I sincerely hope you'll take the opportunity to review this and let me know what you think. If you found any typos, then please do let me know. My spell checker is definitely not within light years of being perfect, and I don't have a beta-reader.   
Anyway, about this story. I can't give away too much, but if you have any questions then I'll answer what I can. Lets see if I can answer before their asked though. Ron is the keeper of the Chuddley Cannons now, and Draco, well poor Draco. His career will soon be revealed, or rather discovered. Although, I'm sure many are fully capable at taking a stab at what he does for a living. This story was inspired by a song called by Wheatus. There's one clear reference to the song, and another not so clear reference. The next chapter will deal with Draco's decision concerning the business. Also during this next chapter I'll also be revealing to you what it is that Ron has requested of him. Thanks for reading this story! :)  



	2. Marilyn

Threadbare and Full of Holes Chapter Two: Marilyn  
  
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling, whom I thank for creating the Harry Potter series, as well as her various publishing companies. However, the plot is my own.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -   
  
Damn this all, Draco thought bitterly. He'd been sitting, staring at the same curling piece of parchment for nearly two days, and he still hadn't come to a conclusion. A part of him urged him to just sign it; he had nothing to lose. His other half, the Slytherin half, was wary. ÔWhat does Weasley want from me anyway?' Draco thought to himself as he read the agreement again.   
  
"'I will not be an embarrassment to either myself or my employer. . .' too late for that," Draco laughed, looking at his surroundings.   
  
Sighing, he stood before walking into his tiny and, unsurprisingly, unkempt kitchen, searching for something to munch on. It was a fruitless search; the bread was stale and molding, the fruits were all half eaten or molding as well, and there wasn't much else. Damn this all, Draco thought again, secretly damning himself for even considering this proposition with a man who he had once hated. Five years ago, he had tormented and berated Ron, and now Ron was seemingly willing to overlook all that. Even though for the seven years they'd attended school together Ron's best friends had had to restrain him.   
  
"Fuck this life," Draco whispered as he snatched the parchment. Lifting a depressingly thin cushion, he was grateful to find a pen hidden in a crevice. A muggle pen but it would work at least. He scrawled his name quickly and tossed the pen aside disdainfully.   
  
Relieved to have finally made his decision, he curled up in one of his dingy arm chairs. He rubbed his eyes childishly; they had bags under them. He hadn't slept much since Ron had visited him. Within minutes, he fell into a sound, if fitful, sleep.   
  
- - - - -  
  
In his London flat, Ron sat in an overstuffed rich purple armchair beside one his many vast windows. Draco Malfoy had just signed his contract; he knew this for a fact. He'd enchanted it to create a series of harmless sparks in his apartment if Draco signed it.   
  
It was wasn't the sparks that had floated through his house for nearly two hours that had kept him up though. It was raining out, and the light fog created by the rain outside reminded him of his Hogwarts days with Harry and Hermione. Most of his private moments were spent in quiet nostalgia.  
  
He still remembered that first night that he'd met Harry; remembered the distinct silhouette created by that tiny boy as he sat staring out the window. A halfhearted smile played at his mouth. What he would give just to be able to see Harry in real life again or to go back in time and savor every moment spent with his best friend.   
  
"Why you?" Ron whispered to the ghost of a memory. "Of all the people, why did it have to be you, my best friend. . . why did he have to pick you?  
  
For a moment he almost imagined that his reflection was not his own, but of that dark haired friend of his. He talked to him often, as though he were still there, but for all his talking, there was never an answer. Hermione had teased him about it endlessly, but she too was gone. Not nearly as gone as Harry though. She could come back if she wanted, which she wouldn't, but Harry. . . oh, Harry . . .  
  
Frustrated, Ron slammed a fist on the wooden side table. It quivered under his fallen fist. The death of Harry had affected him so deeply, that it was what had driven the wedge between himself and Hermione. As he continued to stare out that window, he fell into an uneasy sleep.   
  
- - - - -  
  
Draco lay asleep, curled in a fetal position on his chair. The parchment lay forgotten on the floor. Ron would be at his door in a few minutes, and yet he lay asleep. His wizarding radio went off from under a pile of clothes and garbage, but it didn't disturb Draco in the least. He continued to sleep on.   
  
- - - - -  
  
In his London flat, Ron was in a similar predicament as Draco. Curled in an uncomfortable position on his plush chair, he had not slept as soundly as Draco had. A clock in one of his various rooms chimed that it was twelve thirty. Ron rolled over and nearly fell out of the chair. He managed to regain his balance as he swayed onto his feet. His eyelids were heavy with sleep and his neck hurt from his awkward sleeping position.   
  
Mumbling something, he grabbed a towel and stumbled into his lavish bathroom. Like all the other rooms, this one was decorated in dark rich colors, but still retained a masculine aura. He twisted the hot water knob and gave the cold water a short jerk as he undressed. When he had been a child, hot showers had been a luxury that he had not often had. Now, he had every luxury he could ever want. He stepped under the steaming water and let it course over his body.  
  
- - - - -  
  
Draco rolled over in his chair. His head hung over the arm on one side, and his legs dangled over the opposite side. Both his arms were flung out, and one was resting in the dust on the floor.   
  
This time Ron didn't bother to knock. When he pushed the door open, it gave a loud squeak, which Ron was surprised hadn't woken Draco. He stood leaning in the doorway staring amusedly at Draco. He shook his head and walked over the the chair.  
  
"Wake up," Ron yelled, kicking the chair.   
  
Draco bolted up, his fists flying. "Whoa, there killer," Ron shouted as he dodged a blow.  
  
"Oh," Draco said, lying back down. "Its just you.  
  
"Yeah, just me," Ron mimicked before performing another cleaning spell on an unoccupied chair.   
  
Draco lifted his arm and looked at his cheap wrist watch. It was nearly one thirty. "You're late," he slurred.  
  
"So what if I am?" Ron snapped. "Where's the contract?  
  
Draco nodded sleepily toward the floor. Ron bent over and picked up the parchment before sitting down. Without looking at it, he rolled it up and stored in his robe. "The first order of business for today is to get you out of this shit hole.  
  
"Uh-huh," Draco nodded, his curtained his half closed eyes. "And then what?  
  
"I'll give you the schedule of events. Those are all days that you'll be expected to be available. Although, other things may come up, which means you'll cancel any prior arrangement you had.  
  
"You've said that already," Draco pointed out sleepily. "So, where's this new apartment?  
  
Ron leaned back in his chair and smirked. "I've selected three apartments. You can chose which one you want to use. I'll send over everything that you need after you've chosen the apartment.  
  
"When do we leave?" Draco asked.  
  
"As soon as you're ready," Ron said.  
  
Draco stood up and swayed for a moment before he gained his balance. " Well, I'm ready. So, how do we get to them?  
  
"We'll use the flu network," Ron said, as he grabbed a package he'd brought with him. He held the bag to Draco, saying, "Take the potion and change into that. I can't be seen hanging around you. Not with the reputation that you've gotten for yourself. Oh, and do take a shower. Unfortunately there's nothing to mask that horrible order you've got going on," Ron sneered.   
  
Draco grabbed the bag moodily. He looked into the bag and pulled out a vial full of a green liquid. He shook it. Making a disgusted face, he stated, "Not very pretty, is it?  
  
"Shake it all you want," Ron said shrugging. "That's as pretty as it gets. Just don't break that bottle; I only have one other vial, and you'll need it within an hour of taking that one.  
  
Draco arched his eyebrows questioningly.  
  
"The potion only lasts for an hour," Ron explained. "You'll need to take more so that no one will know the difference.  
  
Shrugging his shoulders, he made his way to his bathroom. It was much like the rest of his apartment. Small and dirty. However, it was considerably cleaner than the rest of the house. He opened the bag and pulled out a vial. It was an atrocious green color, but he knew what it was. According to the agreement that he'd signed, this was polyjuice potion. He placed the bottle back into the bag and stepped over to the shower.   
  
He turned the shower knobs on and hoped for warm water. While he waited for the icy water to warm up, he peeled his dirty clothes off. Draco tested the water with his hand and decided that it was warm enough. It wouldn't get any warmer than the chilly temperature it was at now anyway. He scrubbed down his now feminine body as best he could, and when he was done he shut the shower off. Stepping out of the shower he shivered for a moment, then grabbed a towel and dried off.   
  
Draco reached back into the bag, and pulled out the vial again. He pulled the cork out and tossed it to the side. He screwed up his face and grimaced as he downed the potion.   
  
He looked at himself in the mirror for a moment. Nothing happened. Then suddenly, he doubled over in pain. His face screwed up and arms clutching his stomach. Just as suddenly as the pain had come, it was gone. He straightened up and was shocked for a moment to find that his reflection wasn't his.  
  
Instead, it was that of a blonde woman. He turned his face this way and that. Whoever appearance he had taken on had a pretty face with pouty lips, dark eyes and a slight tan. ÔObviously not a woman from the Malfoy line', Draco thought; the Malfoy's prided themselves for their pale skin, blonde hair, and pale eyes.   
  
Draco rummaged through the other contents of the bag, and pulled out a garment. He held it up. If Ron had picked this out, he had considerably good taste; it was a summer robe of a dark burgundy that complimented his new body. He rummaged through the other contents of the bag and found some lingerie. He slipped it on before slipping on the dress. He looked at himself in his mirror. Turning this way and that. It was the perfect dress for his new body. It fell just below his knees and showed of all of his newly formed curves.   
  
Out of and old habit, he almost began to search his old clothes for his wand, but then he remembered that the Ministry had taken it from him. They didn't trust the only son and heir of one of the highest of Voldemort's Death Eaters. He brushed through his now shoulder length hair and towel dried it.   
  
Rummaging through the bag again, he found a pair of pumps and a handbag, both of which matched the color of his robes perfectly. He slipped them on, and thought, ÔNo wonder women are grouchy half the time. These shoes are awful.'   
  
He attempted to walk out of the bathroom, but found that the shoes threw his balance off. He circled his bathroom several times, getting the feel for them. Finally, confident that he at least wouldn't fall on his face, he exited the bathroom. Ron was still in the chair were he'd left him.  
  
"It's about time," Ron said.   
  
Draco scowled and started to say, " Fu-  
  
Ron laughed at the look on Draco's face; it was obvious that he still hadn't adjusted to his changed self.  
  
Draco crossed his arm's, which he found difficult because of the breasts that had appeared on his chest, and glared at Ron for laughing at him.  
  
"Don't look at me like that," Ron reprimanded, still laughing. "You work for me now. Anyway, what shall I call you? Draco isn't exactly a feminine name.  
  
"I'd thought you'd have a name for me already," Draco countered, still shocked at the unfamiliar voice that issued from his mouth.  
  
Ron shrugged. "I labeled the vial with a name, but there's so many that they're hard to keep track of. Pick a name.  
  
"Fine," Draco scowled, racking his brain for a suitable girl's name. "Marilyn.  
  
"Sounds good to me," Ron said as he stood. "I don't supposed you're connected to the flu network?  
  
Draco crossed his arms and scowled.  
  
"Don't do that," Ron chided, pretending to be concerned. "It doesn't suit you're new face.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. "So, how are we going to get to those apartments?  
  
"We'll apparate to the Ministry and use their fireplaces to flu to the apartments," Ron articulated. "Put anything you want into that handbag; it has one of those bottomless charms on it.  
  
Draco glanced around the apartment, and replied, "There's nothing here that I want.  
  
"Alright," Ron said and then was gone with a pop.  
  
Draco flinched at the unfamiliar sound. It had been years since he'd been in the wizarding world. Sighing, he too apparated.  
  
- - - - -  
  
Ron stood in front of the golden water feature waiting for Draco to appear. It was difficult to locate him through the chaos of the people scuttling from place to place. A few moments later, he spotted Draco making his way to him. Ron waited for him to reach him before reaching out and grasping his arm. He walked toward the fireplaces with Draco at his arm.  
  
Draco whispered under his breath, "This doesn't feel right.  
  
Ron laughed, and replied. "I know, but appearances mean everything.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes as they reached the shortest line. At least fifteen other people were queued in front of them. "I always hated waiting," Draco complained.  
  
"Welcome to my old world," Ron replied.  
  
"I suppose you would know all about waiting," Draco mumbled.  
  
"What's the supposed to mean?" Ron asked sharply looking at the blonde woman hanging on his arm.  
  
Draco looked Ron squarely in the eye, and responded, "You know what I mean.  
  
Ron frowned and said, "No talking about our family histories.  
  
Draco shrugged and said, "Fine."   
  
They stood in an awkward silence as the line shortened at a surprising rate. "What's the name of the first apartments anyway," Draco inquired.  
  
Ron kept his head turned forward as he replied, "Black Island Suites.  
  
"Black Island Suites?" Draco asked. Ron shrugged in response.  
  
Ron dropped Draco's arm and smirked as he said, "Ladies first.  
  
To anyone else it would have appeared that the blonde woman proceeded with a gracious smile as she grabbed a handful of flu powder and spoke the words of her destination. Ron, however, saw the malicious glint in Draco's eye as he performed a small masterpiece of foolery on any watchers. Ron followed Draco, pulling his elbows in as he screwed his eyes shut. He hated the flu network, but Draco couldn't apparate to the apartments without knowing their location. Suddenly, his twirling stopped and his feet slammed on to solid ground. He wavered for a moment before regaining his balance. He pulled his wand out of his elaborate robes and performed a simple cleansing spell on the blackening dust.   
  
"Would you?" Draco asked, looking down at his soiled summer robes.  
  
"Haven't you got a wand?" Ron asked offhandedly as he performed the charm on Draco too.  
  
"No," Draco pouted in a feminine way. There were others bustling around them; they were standing in an office of some sort. He stepped closer to Ron and whispered, "They snapped mine in half. Didn't trust the son of an infamous Death Eater," Draco sneered, mimicking some Ministry official.   
  
"We'll have to take care of that too then," Ron said peering through the crowd. "Cathy! Cathy!  
  
A plump witch looked up from the receptionists desk and smiled at Ron. "Why, hello, Mr. Weasley, and . . .  
  
"Marilyn Parker," Draco supplied in a falsely sweet voice. He didn't like the witch. There was something about her false cheery mood that disturbed her.   
  
"Ms. Parker. I'm Mrs. Palms," She introduced herself to Draco, holding out a hand, which Draco shook. She continued, addressing Ron, "Which apartment would you like to show her first, Mr. Weasley," She asked in an overly engaging voice.   
  
"The Black Orchid." Ron answered.  
  
Mrs. Palms heaved herself out of the chair, and bustled down a hallway with the two following her. A massive ring of keys jingled from her waist, and Ron and Draco followed her up and down a series of hallways and stairs. It reminded Ron of when he, Harry, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Luna had followed Harry through the ministry of magic looking for Sirius. Only this time, there wasn't that danger lurking around every corner, and the woman they followed knew where she was going.   
  
Cathy Palms continued to tramp down the hall before stopping in front of a simple dark cherry wood door. The numbers 2810 were painted in gold on the right side of the door. She fumbled with her keys for a few minutes before deciding on a copper key, which she inserted into the keyhole. She twisted the key and pushed the door open.   
  
Draco stepped through the doorway. It was like switching from night to day; in the hallway it had been light and airy, in this room it was dark and slightly foreboding. He blinked his eyes for a moment as they adjusted to the dimmer light.   
  
"This is the living room," Cathy stated. "The couches are made out of a black dragon hide and were imported directly from Italy. The carpet was also imported for Italy," she continued, indicating the black furniture and carpet with a sweep of her hand. "Now, then. If you'll follow me to the kitchen. Right, black is the predominate color of this suite," She continued, stating more obvious facts. "Those orchids in the vase are replaced every day by a house elf," she said, smelling the flowers. Cathy marched out of the kitchen, down a short hallway, and through the door on the left side. When Draco and Ron had joined her, she began her tour again, "Now then, this is the bedroom. The mattress was stuffed with the softest feathers from various birds. Everything in here was imported from Italy," she said, indicating the dark wood and black accessories.   
  
Ron and Draco followed her from the bedroom through the other door on the opposite side of the hall way. She didn't comment much on the bathroom and ushered them out to the main hallway.  
  
"So, what do you think, dearie?" Cathy asked Draco sweetly.  
  
Draco appeared to consider the question for a moment. "It's a beautiful apartment," he admitted, noting how Cathy swelled slightly with pride. "But it is rather dark for my taste." He finished with a seeming meek smile.  
  
Cathy smiled graciously, and turning to address Ron, asked, "Which room would you like for Ms. Parker to see now?  
  
"Sandy Beaches," Ron replied. "Then, we'll go to the Velvet Rose.  
  
Draco was thankful that the apartment called Sandy Beaches was only a few doors down from the one they had been in. His feet were beginning to ache from walking in the pumps. He was just contemplating the cons of being a woman, when it occurred to him that the potion would soon wear off. If it did, it wouldn't have bothered him except that he would look ridiculous in a woman's summer robe. He moved closer to Ron and whispered, "I think the potion is going to wear off soon.  
  
"There's another vial in your bag," Ron answered him, appearing not to care much.   
  
"Here we are," Cathy chattered cheerily, as she led them into a second apartment through a light colored door. Unlike the Black Orchid, the Sandy Beach apartment reminded Draco of its name. It was decorated in varying shades of tan; he suspected that the fabrics in this room were imported from Egypt. His suspicion was confirmed when Cathy began her tour on the room. Halfway through her explanation, Draco pulled out his vial, complaining of a headache that was distracting him from her comments and the beauty of the apartment. Cathy seemed to accept this answer. Draco drank the potion, and managed to keep a straight face. Unlike the first time, he did not under go the same painful transformation, for which he was thankful.  
  
After they'd seen all the rooms in the tan suite, Cathy lead them to the apartment across the hall from they exited. The lights immediately flickered on when they walked through the door. It was considerably larger than the previous two apartments, and Draco like it straight away, which he said to Cathy.  
  
Cathy winked at Ron, saying, "I think you may have picked a winner when you picked this one.  
  
Ron smiled, with a small nod; not entirely sure whether Cathy was talking about "Marilyn" or the apartment.   
  
Cathy glanced down at her watch, and with a small gasp stated. "Oh dearie, I'm afraid I can't give you a tour of this one. I've got an appointment that I've got to run to, but I'm sure you already know which one you want," she said to Draco.  
  
Draco nodded as Cathy handed him the key to the room they were in. "Well, cheerio, dearies. I wish I could stay, but I really do have to run." With that sad, she exited the apartment and scurried down the hall; her heels clicking dully on the thick carpet that covered the hallways.   
  
Draco strolled around the large living room, which had been decorated with simple pieces of sand colored furniture. Red was more of an accessory color in this apartment instead of a them, which was why Draco liked this apartment more. He was lost in the thought about the beauty of the room, when Ron interrupted his thoughts.   
  
"I've got to run as well. All the supplies that you'll need, will be sent to you tonight. First, you'll need this though," he said briskly, as he held out a parchment to Draco, which he accepted. "I'll be back tomorrow though, for our first order of business." And with that, he was gone with a loud pop. Draco stared at the spot where Ron had disappeared for a moment, before looking at the scroll he'd been handed.  
  
Authors Note: My second chapter. I've finally finished it. This was more difficult to write than the first, due to the chaos of school and homework. Not only that, but sometimes it felt like pulling teeth to get the scene the way I wanted it, but overall I'm satisfied with what I've got. I wouldn't expect to have the third chapter for at least another week. I'll try and get it out as soon as I possibly can. Thanks for waiting though, and thank you so much for the positive reviews.   
  
And before I forget, you have no idea how awkward it is to write about a man in a woman's body. I felt it was really awkward, so I hope all can overlook the awkwardness of it. Also, at first the Ron nostalgia scene seemed a bit out of place for me, but the death of Harry (Yes, Harry dies in my version) has a lot to do with how Ron is now.   
  
I'll answer any questions anyone had in personal thank you's in a moment. I don't think too many questions were raised in the course of this chapter though. If you do have any questions though, then please do ask. The question of what Ron's business proposition should be obvious by now. But in case anyone is a little out of it then I'll state it directly right here:   
  
Basically, Ron has hired Draco to take the polyjuice potion and take on the appearance of women. Under the guise of a woman, Draco is to attend Ron to social events. The deal benefits both of them. Ron doesn't have to spend his quidditch season chasing various women, and Draco makes much needed money. Also according the plan, that's all that is required of Draco. Nothing else.   
  
So that's it in a nutshell. I didn't exactly reveal what Draco's "career" before this deal was, but it will surface in later chapters. There's another reference to the song Leroy by Wheatus in this chapter too. If anyone can find all three of the references, then I'll dedicate the third chapter to them. ;)  
  
Thanks for reading this story again! Oh, and if you want to keep up with me, or if you just want to know my progress in the story, then you'll want to visit my livejournal. You'll probably have to copy and past it, but here's the url:  
  
  
  
Thank you's to: RoamingPony: Thank you! :) They sort of came about naturally I guess you could say. O, criticism. You do have a point. The transition is very choppy, so it wasn't juts me who thought so too? Sometimes I got confused myself. I'll have to go back and fix that. Thanks for pointing it out.   
  
cara: Well, here's another chapter. Hope it keeps your attention. That's the plan; to keep on writing.   
  
chetspet: Its perfectly legal. . . I think. . . well what Ron has in mind is anyway. I'm kind of hesitant on the whole beta reader thing though. But I will keep it in mind. Hope this chapter keeps your interest! :)  
  
I Heart DM 11: Wouldn't surprise me. What's your theory? Thanks for the sweet review! Hope you like this chapter! :)  
  
Yoshi12: I wrote more! lol. Hope you like! :)  
  
Private I: Thanks, I hope you like this chapter. 


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